Luogo e data di registrazione		-
	Original Editions		Telefunken | 6.35596 FK | 3 LPs | LC 0366 | durata: 55' 39" · 42' 47" · 65' 59" | (p) 1982 | ANA | stereo
	Edizione CD		Teldec | 9031-71719-2 | 8 CDs | LC 3706 | (c) 1990 | DDD/DMM | stereo | Klaviersonaten Nr. 1-32 Teldec | 8.43477 ZK | 1 CD | LC 3706 | (c) 1987 | DDD/DMM | stereo | Klaviersonaten Nr. 9, 10, 22 Teldec | 8.42913 ZK | 1 CD | LC 3706 | (c) 1983 | DDD/DMM | stereo | Klaviersonate Nr. 8 Teldec | 8.43206 ZK | 1 CD | LC 3706 | (c) 1985 | DDD/DMM | stereo | Klaviersonate Nr. 13 Teldec | 8.43478 ZK | 1 CD | LC 3706 | (c) 1987 | DDD/DMM | stereo | Klaviersonate Nr. 24 Teldec | 8.43027 ZK | 1 CD | LC 3706 | (c) 1984 | DDD/DMM | stereo | Klaviersonate Nr. 30 Teldec | 8.42761 ZK | 1 CD | LC 3706 | (c) 1984 | DDD/DMM | stereo | Klaviersonaten Nr. 28, 29
	Executive Producer		-
	Recording Engineer		-
	Cover		Ludwig van Beethoven, Gemälde von J. W. Mähler, 1815
	Note		-

BUCHBINDER BEETHOVEN 32 KLAVIERSONATEN 3 LPs - 6.35472 FK - (p) 1980 2 LPs - 6.35490 FK - (p) 1981 3 LPs - 6,35581 FK - (p) 1982 3 LPs - 6.35596 FK - (p) 1982	RE-RELEASE ON COMPACT DISC (DMM) 1 CD - 8.43477 ZK - (c) 1987 (Nr.9,10,22) 1 CD - 8.42913 ZK - (c) 1983 (Nr.8) 1 CD - 8.43206 ZK - (c) 1985 (Nr.13) 1 CD - 8.43478 ZK - (c) 1987 (Nr.24) 1 CD - 8.43027 ZK - (c) 1984 (Nr.30) 1 CD - 8.42761 ZK - (c) 1984 (Nr.28,29)	Piano Sonata Nr. 8, Op. 13 "Pathétique" Unfortunately for its interpreters, the ”Pathctique" is one of Beethoven's sonatas which are all too well known, one might almost say ”played to death”. As early as 1842 Carl Czerny stated in the comments to his edition published in that year that this sonata was easier to master than all its predecessors, and consequently had always been a particular favourite. To this day students who are looking for a titanic, “tragic” Beethoven first movement to perform with thunderous panache choose this work. The ”Grande Sonatc pathétiquc”, as it was entitled when published in 1799, is the only sonata for piano to which Beethoven himself gave a descriptive name, as opposed to the apocryphal ”Appassionata”, ”Pastorale” etc. The reviewer of the Leipzig ”Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung” wrote rather restrainedly of the first edition: “The only objection that the critic might raise against someone like Beethoven... is that the sonata’s theme strikes one as too reminiscent, though the critic is unable to say of what; but certainly the idea is not a new one." Thus, for example, the ”grave” introduction to the first movement with its dotted rhythm and sequence of diminished seventh chords sounds operatic, and both the first and second movement contain reminiscences of Mozart’s C minor sonata K 457 written 15 years previously. On the other hand, there is scarcely any model for the manner in which Beethoven quotes a characteristically varied excerpt from the introduction at the beginning of the development, then combines the main theme and the melody of the ”grave” into the subiect of the development and, at the end of the movement, juxtaposes with drastic brevity these two thematic elements in their original form. Again, there are hardly any models for the frantic urgency which gives the first movement its special character; here the broken octaves in quavers in the left hand which in the past - as in the Mozart sonata mentioned above - were treated more as cosy, stereotyped accompanying figures are transformed into the muffled drum roll of an imaginary orchestra. This sonata is dedicated, as were the piano trios op. 1 which preceded it and later also the sonata op. 26, to Prince Carl Lichnowsky, probably Beethoven's most eminent patron, of whom he was to say in 1805: “He is truly one of my most faithful friends and promoters of my art - something fairly unusual in that class.” Piano Sonatas Nr. 9 and 10, Op. 14, Nos.1 and 2 These two sonatas of op. 14, composed at the same time as the ”Pathétique”, were also published in 1799. They are in the small-scale three movement form, cheerful, uncomplicated and technically undemanding; Czerny described the first movement of the sonata in G as an exceptionally charming and lighthearted composition. The fact that they were contemporaneous with the ”Pathétique” proves yet again that any attempt to interpret a work as the reflection of the personal circumstances of its composer at the time when it was created is fraught with dangers. If the ”Pathétique” is to be understood as a tragic revolt against Beethoven's incipient deafness, how can this be reconciled with the calm serenity of op. 14, written at the same time? Style in music simply cannot always be related to the frame of mind of its composer, for all that bad exegetical literature still makes this claim; like form and genus in music, it has its own tradition. Conceivably the reduced rechnical problems (the two even easier sonatinas of op. 49, written in 1796, were, after all, not published until 1805) are to be understood as a compliment to the dedicatee, the Baroness Braun, who is not known to have been a particularly distinguished pianist. Her husband was, however, at that time deputy director of Vienna's two imperial court theatres, and this may throw some light on the purpose of the dedication. Soon afterwards (180l-02) Beethoven arranged op. 14, No. 1 for string quartet, writing full of pride to the publisher ”I know that nobody else can follow in my footsteps as easily as I can.” Piano Sonata Nr. 13, Op. 27 Nr. 1 "Sonata quasi una fantasia" In three piano sonatas written in rapid succession in 1800-01 Beethoven departed, for the first time, from the traditional sonata form. Op. 26 begins with an "Andante con variazioni”, the second movement is a scherzo, and the third replaces the slow movement with the famous funeral march. In the sonatas of op. 27, both described as being “quasi una fantasia”, the first movements are quite freely structured, evidently as a follow-up to op. 26. In No. l it almost gives the impression of a free improvisation (as the word “fantasia” implies) on a short, songlike phrase vaguely suggesting a set of variations. The allegro middle section provides a contrast both in key (C as against E flat) and metre, although it is based on the harmonic scheme of the opening section. Unlike op. 27, No. 2, however, there is no break between the movements, as Czerny so rightly remarked, this sonata is really a fantasia, and all its movements merely serve to create a single unified piece. The second movement is a scherzo entirely in crotchets, except that in the last repeat the two hands are a quaver apart. The third (adagio) is surprisingly brief - three sections of eight bars each, which seems somewhat inappropriate to its expansive theme. Finally the last and, as in op. 27, No. 2, the longest movement is the most formally complete in itself: a large-scale rondo in six sections with sonata elements, almost entirely in loose two-part writing, frequently contrapuntal, and altogether clearly reminiscent of the last movement of op. 26. Quite unexpectedly the firt bars of the Adagio turn up again just before the short presto coda, further evidence of the free fantasia-like form, but also an anticipation of the "flash-back” technique of later works such as sonata op. 101, where the opening of the work is quoted before the final fugue. Piano Sonata Nr. 22, Op. 54 This short work, written in 1804, contrasts strangely with the two great, quasi-symphonic sonatas opp. 53 and 57, between which it is placed chronologically. In some respects it follows on the experiments of opp. 26 and 27, since neither of its two movements is in true sonata form. The first movement consists of two sharply contrasting elements: a short exposition, strongly reminiscent of the minuet style of a past age, almost a stylistic quotation; Czerny rightly referred to its old-fashioned character, and this is borne out by the anachronistic marking "in tempo d’un Menuetto” in place of the more usual ”in tempo di Menuetto”. The longish middle section is most certainly not a trio, but more like a rumbustious orchestral scherzo with its fierce sforzato accents going against the grain. No less strange is the second movement. Although the pattern of its motion - incessant semiquaver figuration in 2/4 time - is the same as that of the last movements of opp. 26 and 27, No. 1, its form cannot be labelled. instead, as in a kaleidoscope, new configurations constantly come into existence, wandering off into the most distant keys imaginable, all arising out of a minute seminal phrase, the broken chords of the first bar. This movement is a fine example of Beethoven’s masterly economy of material. Once again, contemporary critics did not know what to make of such “experimental” music; a reviewer of the first edition, though he could not fail to recognise its original inspiration and unmistakeably mature harmonic art, went on to say that unfortunately it was again full of a strange waywardness. Even Beethoven’s admirer Wilhelm von Lenz, convinced that this two-movement sonata was incomplete, wrote, as late as the 1850s: “We have yet to meet anyone who has found the torso of op. 54 at all to his liking.” Piano Sonata Nr. 24, Op. 78 "A Thérèse" This sonata and the sonatina op. 79, both dating from 1809, both very short, are in the nature of light relief overshadowed by greater works: the Choral Fantasia op. 80, the Emperor Concerto, the string quartet op. 75 and the incidental music to ”Egmont”. Op. 78 is dedicated to Countess Therese von Brunsvik, to whom Beethoven was deeply attached. (He was also a close friend of her brother Franz, the dedicatee of the ”Appassionata” and the Fantasia op. 77; he may well have had a love affair with her sister Josephine, the widow of Count Deym.) The short motto which launches the sonata, four bars with the.significant marking “adagio cantabile”, almost gives the impression that it reflects a romantic dedication. (The normally notoriously matter-of-fact Hans von Bülow once went so far as to say that if Beethoven had composed nothing except for these four bars, he would still have been immortal.) Though the motto has no further thematic role to play in the movement, the songlike beginning of the first subject sounds like a continuation of this adagio introduction; indeed, ”cantabile” applies without a doubt to the whole movement, which presages the importance that this expression mark was to assume in the later sonatas, starting with op. 90. The second movement, a lively rondo based once again on the opening bars of the first movement, is, according to Czerny, quite difficult because it is sometimes awkward: full of two-note arpeggios, rapid hand changes in the figuration, as later found in Tchaikowsky, and all that in the cumbersome key of F sharp, which is unique in Beethoven's piano music. Again according to Czerny, Beethoven was proud of this work: ”People are forever on about the sonata in C sharp minor {the ”Moonlight”, op. 27, No. 2); I have certainly written better than that. The sonata in F sharp is a different thing altogether. Piano Sonata Nr. 28, Op. 101 With this sonata, completed in 1816. Beethoven's creative work began to flow again after several years of sluggish production, not unconnected with the political confusion of the period. One of the most striking innovations of his late period style, which is generally acknowledged as beginning with op. 101, is an emphatic move towards contrapuntal writing, towards fugues, particularly in his final movements (piano sonatas opp. 101, 106, 110; cello sonata op. 102, No. 2). In op. 101 the finale, as in so many others of his late works the most weighty movement, completely envelops the sonata form in contrapuntal notions: in the exposition all thematic figurations are presented fugato, the development and later, by analogy, the coda begin with a genuine four-part fugue on the main subject in the tonic minor. An adagio, highly expressive in spite of being a mere twenty bars, is headed ”langsam und schnsuchtsvoll”, i.e. ”slow and yearning”, (in op. 101 Beethoven continued the practice started with op. 90 of using German headings, although he added Italian markings.) It is somewhat reminiscent of the ”Introduzione” in the Waldstein sonata, which also ushers in the tremendous final movement. In between, before the ”attacca” of the Finale, there is a brief quotation from the first movement, a device intended to emphasise the cyclical unity of the whole concept, which is later encountered on several occasions, notably in the Ninth Symphony. The first movement is lyrical and sensitive throughout, really more in the style of a central slow movement, here the differentiation of form and theme which is inherent in the sonata movement proper has all but disappeared.  (The particular rhythm of the movement, tied quavers on the weak beat resulting in syncopation, is later frequently to be found in the works of Schumann and Brahms.) Beethoven described this sonata as very difficult to perform; he dedicated it to one of the most accomplished pianists in Vienna, the Baroness Ertmann ("Receive What I have often intended for you and which, I hope, will prove my devotion both to you and to your artistic talent”) Both Reichardt and Mendelssohn considered her interpretation of his works to be perfection itself, and Anton Schindler, Beethoven's confident and subsequently his biographer, praised her in the following terms: ”Her achievements were simply unique. She sensed intuitively even the most arcane intentions in Beethoven's Works with such certainty as though they were written out and in front of her very eyes." Piano Sonata Nr. 29, Op. 106 "Hammerklavier" This sonata, written in 1818, is practically the only major work of that year and the longest and most difficult of all Beethoven's piano sonatas; it almost strikes one as a gateway leading to the tremendous edifice of the ”Missa Solemnis”, which he started immediately afterwards. (The epithet ”Hammerklavier” Sonata, derived from the original title "Grand Sonata for the Hammcr-Klavier” has no significance other than that in place of the customary term ”pianoforte" he used the equivalent German name, as he did for example in op. 101.) The publication of the sonata in 1819 was greeted with comments such as these: ”Thus we can observe, after only a few lines, that this work docs not just differ from the master's other creations in its abundant and vast imagination but that, by virtue of the artistic perfection of its unified writing” (this refers to the counterpoint of the fugue in the last movement) “it appears to mark a new period in Beethoven's piano works.” This is his last sonata in the grand, four-movement structure, though the largo which introduces the finale almost achieves the status of an independent movement, thereby creating a roughly symmetrical structure of five movements. The longest movement, the adagio, lies at the core, with two shorter movements (scherzo and largo) separating it from the huge outer movements. As in the "Waldstein" and "Appassionata", the first movement is of truly symphonic proportions, abounding with changing harmonies, furious contrasts, extraordinary tonal effects, exploiting the extreme registers of the piano and demanding a degree of virtuosity that is not merely an end in itself. By contrast there follows a fleeting yet somehow constrained scherzo and a strange trio with colourless broken triads leading to a wild cadence, marked presto; after the repeat of the scherzo there is a coda with an oppressive conflict between the last note, the tonic B flat, and the ”wrong” B natural. The adagio, marked ”appassionato e con molto sentimento”, with its very free formal structure and its tremendous dimensions (Beethoven's longest sonata movement along with the ”Arietta” of op. 111) is one vast ”espressivo" of movingly intoned sounds of grief and isolation with its climax in B minor, the key which Beethoven in 1816 described on a sketch as the "black key”. - The largo, a completely free fantasia written in part without bar lines, is followed by the crowning edifice of a ”fuga con alcune licenze" (a fugue with some degree of freedom) taking up 400 bars, a worthy counterpart to the ”Grosse Fuge” op. 133, originally planned as the last movement of the string quartet op. 130. Its counterpoint is executed with every form of sophistication, yet the overall concept is one of tremendous freedom; the part-writing is complex, the rhythm and metre extraordinarily difficult; one way and another the whole ”Hammerklavier" sonata was virtually beyond the capacity of performers of the time. To his publisher Beethoven wrote: “There's a sonata for you that will give pianists trouble, and will only be played in fifty years’ time.” In the event it did not take quite as long as that: it was probably Franz Liszt who first managed to play the ”Hammerklavier" sonata at a public concert in Paris in 1836. Hector Berlioz was full of enthusiasm: ”The ideal performance of a work reputed to be unperformable; by rendering a work which had until then not been understood, Liszt has proved that he is the pianist of the future.” Piano Sonata Nr. 30, Op. 109 The only major works for which Beethoven found the strength during the years in which he struggled with the “Missa Solemnis” are the three sonatas opp. 109, 110 and 111, written, as he claimed with some exaggeration, at a stroke. (He described them, with some bitterness, as work for his daily bread and essential to his subsistence.) The first movement of op. 109 is the most remarkable of those late sonatas, from op. 90 onwards, which are of an experimental character and deviate from the usual pattern. The enormous contrast between the vivace sections and those marked “adagio espressivo”, each of which appear twice (with an additional vivace as a coda), resembles but fleetingly, almost by free association, the traditional contrast between the first and second subject of sonata form. And if this movement is more of a fantasia than a sonata, as Czerny rightly remarked, then the second, following in the harsh tonic minor (E) is a sonata movement of sorts with a theme in the bass that is treated fugally in the middle section. (The broken chord of E minor with which the tune in the upper part begins is clearly a variant of the opening of the first movement.) The last movement, which is longer than the other two together, is a set of character variations, like op. 111, and there as here trills play a dominant role in the final variation. The rhythm of the theme is archaic, rather like that of a saraband; Czerny said that it recalled the style of Handel and J. S. Bach. Beethoven dedicated the work to the young Maximiliane von Brentano, daughter of his friend Franz, the half brother of Bettina and Clemens von Brentano, with whom he had ben in close contact for many uars. Jean Meuchtelbach Translation: Lindsay Craig